


Be Love

by Aibakaneesh



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aibakaneesh/pseuds/Aibakaneesh
Summary: Things fall in place as they practice for the new drama. Who would have thought Miyata would be the most nervous?
Relationships: Miyata Toshiya/Tamamori Yuta
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Be Love

**Author's Note:**

> This damn mini series has caught me up in a whirlwind...

Tamamori set the plates on the table and slid into his chair. He didn’t mind having Miyata over to visit, but somehow there was an awkward air between them. Miyata had to have noticed, because he was nearly silent during their meal. Finally he set his beer down and took a slow breath.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he said, staring at the foam at the bottom of his glass. “It’s not been announced yet.”

“Huh?” Tamamori never expected Miyata to be the one with cold feet. After all,  _ he’s _ the one that suggested it to their manager.

“I know you said you don’t care, but  _ seriously _ if you don’t want to do this then just say so. It’s all a joke, you know? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“It’s hardly a joke anymore, Toshi,” Tamamori said, deadpan. “You’ve said you love me every day since I was fifteen.”

“It  _ is _ a joke. It’s fan service.”

“Then why is this any different?” Tamamori hadn’t been planning on finishing his beer-- he only opened a can for himself to be polite-- but he took a long drink while he waited for Miyata to sort out his thoughts. Miyata worried too much, he thought. Joking crush aside, Tamamori had always considered Miyata one of his closest friends.

“I don’t know,” he finally muttered. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“You  _ aren’t _ ,” Tamamori insisted. “Geeze, I’m never doing a project with you again if you’re going to worry this much.”

“Don’t say that,” Miyata whined. He kicked Tamamori’s feet under the table and pouted at him.

“Gross. Get up and do my dishes if you’re done.”

Miyata laughed, the atmosphere lifting immediately. “Fine, fine.”

Tamamori stood beside the sink and dried the dishes as Miyata handed them to him, watching him out of the corner of his eye. By the time Miyata had made it to the sink, he’d clouded into his own head again.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed, after he’d stuck the last cup in the cupboard. 

Miyata shrugged and dodged around him, heading to the living room and dumping himself on the couch. 

“ _ Toshiya! _ ” he groaned, following. “I’m gonna kick you out.”

“I’m nervous, I guess,” Miyata finally said, turning his face out the window. Tamamori could see his neck turning red and he let his annoyance slip away. He sat on the other end of the couch and waited for Miyata’s shoulders to deflate a little.

“Nervous about filming? It’ll be like  _ Busaiku  _ except longer and you’ll actually have a script. It’s not hard to learn lines. Besides, half of them are just our song lyrics. Don’t be nervous.”

“It’s not that,” Miyata said, turning back around and fiddling with the hole in the knee of his jeans.

“What, then?” 

Miyata took a shuddering breath, his face turning even redder. “We have to kiss.”

Tamamori was silent for a full five seconds before he chuckled. “So? Isn’t that what you’ve been after for  _ years _ ?”

“I…”

“You’ve kissed Nikaido before. Twice.”

“That’s different! It was a joke. It was like half a second and we barely even touched.”

“You’re actually nervous about kissing me?”

“I don’t want to look stupid.”

Tamamori grinned at him, eyes narrowing into teasing creasents. He opened his mouth to nag at him, but Miyata finally looked up at him.

“I honestly cannot tell you the last time I’ve kissed someone. I’ve never been in a real relationship.”

“Shut up,” was all Tamamori could think to say. “What about on  _ Busaiku _ ?”

“Those are cut-aways.”

“If it helps,” Tamamori said slowly, looking away himself, “the last time I kissed someone was  _ Parallel World _ and before that? Who knows. Probably that girl I dated in 2015. You saw how  _ that _ went.”

Miyata huffed out a little laugh and leaned back on the couch. “When my mom made me apply for  _ Johnny’s _ I thought I’d be knee-deep in girls by now. Should have known I would stay ugly and weird.”

“Hey,” Tamamori said, grinning. “I’m neither of those things and I’m shit out of luck too.”

Miyata finally let out a real laugh. He smiled at Tamamori and shrugged a little apology before reaching for the remote. Tamamori wasn’t sure what the hell he was thinking, but he grabbed Miyata’s hand on top of it. Miyata flinched a little, as though he wasn’t allowed the touch.

“Do you want to practice?”

“Do I want to  _ what?! _ ” Miyata snatched his hand away and held it to his chest like Tamamori was going to rip it off.

Tamamori felt his ears go hot but he pressed on. “I mean, so it’s not so awkward the first time. I’ll probably laugh my head off, honestly.”

“I… do you want to? Isn’t that a thousand times weirder?”

Tamamori shrugged. “Maybe we should get comfortable with it. Otherwise we’ll have to reshoot the scene a million times if it doesn’t look good. That happened during  _ Parallel World _ . I had to fake an orgasm seven times and they didn’t even use the damn shot in the final cut.”

“Ew,” Miyata laughed. “They really wanted to put that in the movie?”

“I think the assistant director just wanted to watch it. Sick freak wouldn’t leave me alone on set that day.”

“You never said that.”

“Didn’t want anyone to worry. Nothing happened. So, do you want to or not?”

He shrugged and tensed up when Tamamori scooted closer on the couch, tossing the remote to the floor. “I guess.”

“Well, don’t be weird, turn this way.”

Miyata swallowed as he turned, eyes looking anywhere but at Tamamori. Tamamori cupped his cheek and leaned in, tilting his head just slightly to the side to press their tensed lips together. It lasted a second, warm skin against warm skin, and then Tamamori pulled back.

“Was that bad?” he asked, poking Miyata in the stomach.

“Is that how we’re doing it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that quick?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on what the director wants. He’ll probably want it to be a bit more, you know? Since we’re trying to sell this.”

Miyata flopped back against the couch, unsatisfied. “This is awful.”

“Hey. I’m a great kisser.”

Miyata rolled his eyes.

“Well, let’s do it again, then. Until you’re comfortable.”

“Are you already comfortable?” Miyata countered, raising an eyebrow.

Tamamori froze and suddenly realized he was grandstanding. He’d seen it as a challenge and went straight for the peck on the lips and it was just now catching up to him. He was really going to be kissing Miyata Toshiya in front of a room full of crew and then that kiss was going to be broadcast for anyone to watch. He was either going to laugh his head off or punch Miyata in the face during the filming. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled again. “Let’s just do it again.”

“I’m supposed to be the one holding you,” Miyata said, shifting awkwardly. He put one arm on the back of the couch behind Tamamori and held his face this time. Tamamori lowered his gaze to Miyata’s t-shirt and tried to relax into Miyata’s hand. He took a slow breath through his nose and tried to get into character. He was meant to be the demure sweet one, following Miyata’s moves. 

Tamamori had to pull him in anyways and tried not to suck his lips into his mouth this time. He let them stay plush and soft and his eyes slid shut. He grabbed Miyata around the waist and tipped them slightly sideways against the back of the couch. There, he could lean into Miyata’s other arm and pretend it was a loving embrace. Miyata caught on and tightened that arm around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. Tamamori used that momentum to deepen the kissing, just moving his lips to kiss Miyata’s top lip, catching it between his own for a split second. He felt Miyata return the move, letting his bottom lip slide against Miyata’s easily. He gave him one more smooch before sitting back. Miyata was watching him, expression guarded.

“I think that would be good, don’t you?” Tamamori said, clearing his throat. “It’s a kiss scene, not a sex scene.”

“I guess.”

“Look, Toshiya,” Tamamori huffed. Annoyance was an easier emotion than whatever this awkward crap was. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s going to be like ten seconds of airtime. If that.

“I know,” he croaked.

“You’re supposed to lead, too,” he reminded. “You have to be okay with that if you want the filming to go quickly. You can’t wait for me to--”

“ _ I know, Tama! _ ”

“Then what’s the big deal?”

Miyata threw his hands up. “I told you! I’m just nervous!”

Tamamori climbed to his feet and snatched Miyata’s arm, yanking at him until he gave up struggling and stood up.

“What do you want?”

“Come in here and we’ll keep practicing. Get used to it and then it won’t be weird anymore. I  _ promise _ I’m okay with this series. You aren’t making me do anything and I don’t  _ care _ if you’re a shitty kisser.”

“Hey,” Miyata complained, stumbling after him as they went down the hallway. “Where are we going?”

“Bedroom,” Tamamori said, kicking open his door. He flipped the duvet back up against the pillows with one hand before shoving MIyata onto the foot of the bed with the other.

“Why the fuck are we in here?”

“You said you read the script. We kiss on the bed. Let’s just do the scene for real until it isn’t weird.”

“It’s weird,” Miyata said, looking up at him. “This is ridiculously weird.”

“I said until it wasn’t!” Tamamori left him there alone while he stomped down the hall to find his copy of the script. When he came back, Miyata was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, stock-still. Tamamori plopped down beside him, flipping open the booklet for the first episode. “Look, right here it says I’m lying down on the bed and we’re talking and you lean down and kiss me.”

“What are we saying?” Miyata grabbed the book and looked over his line, scrunching his nose at how damned cheesy it was.

“Don’t worry about that part. We can go over lines tomorrow or something.”

“Okay.” It didn’t sound convincing at all, but Tamamori punched him once in the arm before lying back against the pillows. 

Miyata crawled closer and hovered awkwardly until Tamamori yanked him down onto his elbow and hip. He made a face at how close they were and raised up onto his palms.

“We don’t have to like, you know,” Tamamori kicked his legs stupidly before twisting them off to the side. “Just lean over me. We don’t have to touch.”

Again, Miyata didn’t lean into the kiss until Tamamori got impatient and pulled him down. This kiss lasted only a moment before Miyata pulled back, shaking a kink out of his wrist.

“Quit getting nervous! This is a BL drama. You’re written as the leader. You have to be like they are in the manga. I’m supposed to be, like, helpless and cute.”

“What do you know about BL manga?” Miyata teased.

“Oh, shut the fuck up. You’re one to talk, Japan’s First  _ Otaku Idol _ .” He was grinning and finally it felt more natural. 

Miyata leaned down first, caging Tamamori in with his arms and kissing him slowly, a smile on his lips. Tamamori kissed him back, his hands coming up to hold Miyata around the waist. He pulled him down a little more solidly and let out a little noise through his nose, eyes sliding shut. He had forgotten how nice it was to lie in bed with someone and just kiss. Even if that someone was Miyata, he could work with it. And it was much better when he didn’t have to do any of the work. Miyata was the one who would have sore arms later, not him. He was curled up and relaxed and when he readjusted his head on the pillow he didn’t think twice about opening his mouth a little wider. The next movement brought Miyata’s bottom lip into his mouth, gently between his teeth, and he sucked lightly for just a moment before letting go and running his tongue over the warm spot. Miyata took it in stride, opening his mouth on the next beat and meeting Tamamori’s tongue with his own. He slid his arm up under the pillow, resting down on his elbow and pressing along Tamamori’s side, holding him closer and tighter as the kiss deepened. Tamamori’s hands slid up from his waist to his shoulder blades, holding for a moment, feeling his muscles work, before moving down to his biceps and holding on. His knees twisted the other way until they were leaning on Miyata’s hip. Their lips moved a little faster, Tamamori shifting again to get a better angle, letting out a harsh breath through his nose as Miyata’s tongue finally swept into his mouth. He licked at Tamamori’s tongue for a moment before pulling back to suck on his lip again. Tamamori licked at Miyata’s lips until they opened and released him. He gave Miyata one more long smooch before getting his palms against Miyata’s chest and pushing him back just a little.

“That was good,” he breathed, his entire body tingling. He felt warm and almost sleepy.

“Yeah?” Miyata let out a short huff of air and pulled himself upright. “Good enough for filming?”

“We probably shouldn’t use tongue,” Tamamori said, closing his eyes. “That might be a bit too much.”

Miyata froze and swallowed hard. “Sorry. I…”

“It’s fine,” Tamamori said, reaching out and holding onto Miyata’s elbow. He was perplexed, but he suddenly found himself very clingy. He could have sighed in relief when Miyata caught his hand and squeezed his fingers. “It was nice.”

“You sure? I felt like I was slobbering on you.”

“Not at all. Felt good.” His eyes slid shut and he just rubbed the back of Miyata’s hand with his thumb, in no mood to do anything but be still.

“You must be as touch-starved as me,” Miyata laughed, flopping down beside him on the other pillow. “If you think that felt good.”

“I said I was,” Tamamori frowned, rolling onto his side, upset that Miyata had let him go. “I said I haven’t been with anyone in almost five years.”

“At least you do dramas.”

“It’s not the same at all,” he argued. “It’s not… nice. It’s not genuine.”

“This was?”

Tamamori was quiet for a moment, then grabbed Miyata’s elbow again. It only took a little tug for Miyata to lean back over him and kiss him again. This time Tamamori pulled him as close as he could get, not caring that their legs were tangled together and that there wasn’t a breath of space between them. Miyata’s weight on top of him was beyond comforting and he let the kiss deepen even as it slowed. He wasn’t quite sure what Miyata was worried about. His kissing was more than acceptable. He was warm and gentle and didn’t bite like the last girl Tamamori had been with. He was so comfortable that he didn’t do anything but lean into it when Miyata’s lip left his mouth and trailed kisses across his cheeks. His lips met Tamamori’s nose once before returning to his mouth. Tamamori groaned and stretched away from him.

“Do that again,” he whispered, turning his face slightly to the side. 

There was a second of hesitation, a second that could have broken them apart and ended this… whatever it was, and then Miyata kissed his cheek again and the second was over. He followed Tamamori’s stretching easily enough, getting right at where Tamamori wanted him. He kissed his jaw, then the hollow between his jaw and ear before getting the lobe of Tamamori’s ear in his mouth. Tamamori made a little noise and clutched at Miyata’s arms, curling his feet into his body and dragging Miyata’s knee with him. Miyata pushed up onto his elbow just enough to be able to shift down to trail his kisses back to Tamamori’s neck. He kissed down to the collar of his shirt before getting at the hollow of his throat. Tamamori moaned then, a real, honest moan, and tossed his head to the other side, opening himself up for more. Miyata followed the same path up and down Tamamori’s neck on that side, kissing his ear gently before kissing his lips again. Tamamori whined at the loss when Miyata pulled away entirely.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Miyata panted.

“I don’t care. Just don’t stop. That feels so good.”

“But--”

Tamamori pushed at him suddenly, making him thunk onto his back, and got on top of him this time. He sat on his hips like he did when they wrestled for the making cameras and took control, script be damned. Miyata’s lips were bright red and shiny and just as delicious as they looked when Tamamori kissed him again. He let their tongues mingle, kissing him deeper now that he could press Miyata down the way he wanted to. Miyata struggled after a moment, sucking in a breath through his nose, and Tamamori pulled back only to kiss Miyata’s forehead. He pushed his hair back, threading his fingers in it and tugging gently before kissing down his temple and across his eyelid. He stopped for a moment, nuzzling their noses together and just breathing Miyata’s air, eyes shut. 

It was that pause that Miyata took advantage of, gripping Tamamori around the waist and swinging him back down onto the bed. He hit with a little thump and bounce but his complaint was quickly muffled by Miyata’s mouth. The force behind the toss spurred Tamamori on a little more. He squirmed until he had Miyata lying his entire weight on top of him again, pinning him down against the bed. He shivered happily, body thrumming with satisfaction. One of his hands felt for Miyata’s beside his head, plucking at his fingers until Miyata threaded their fingers and squeezed. His other ran down Miyata’s back, finding where his t-shirt had ridden up in their swap. He rubbed his back, delighting in the warm skin above his waist band. He rubbed up and down his ribs, as far as he could reach without jostling Miyata away from him. Then Miyata shifted to get his neck comfortable and Tamamori’s next pass down his side ended on back pocket of Miyata’s jeans. It was a stupid, impulsive decision, but he slipped the tips of his fingers into the pocket and held on, pulling Miyata more solidly against him, squeezing the firm muscle absent-mindedly. 

Miyata fumbled against his lips, freezing for a moment and letting out a shaking breath, before he got himself propped up on one elbow and moved his other hand to Tamamori’s waist. Tamamori’s shirt was all tangled underneath him, nearly pulled up to his armpits in all their rolling. Miyata gripped his side solidly, letting the heat of his hand sink into Tamamori’s skin. Tamamori gasped against his lips and let out an involuntary whimper. He shivered again and his hand snapped from Miyata’s rear to Miyata’s hand. He squeezed it, guiding it’s path up and down his side the way he wanted. Eventually he gave Miyata’s hand a little push when it encountered the edge of his shirt and Miyata took the hint easily. He slid up under the fabric and thumbed at the small swell above his abs. Tamamori pushed his elbow again and the next swipe of his thumb brushed his nipple. Tamamori shivered with delight and got his hands back on Miyata’s body. He squeezed his sides, then got both of his hands on Miyata’s bottom again, not squeezing or rubbing, but holding on solidly and selfishly making sure Miyata couldn’t pull away. 

Miyata continued squeezing his pectoral, letting his palm lay flat against his nipple, feeling the way it peaked hard with the stimulation. Tamamori arched into him, breaking the kiss so he could turn away and pant. He kept his eyes closed, moaning when Miyata returned his attention to his throat. He was getting carried away, he realized. A minute longer of this and he was about to have an embarrassing problem to deal with. Something that  _ surely _ wouldn’t be part of their mini series.

Miyata seemed to have the same thought. He sat back a little and grabbed Tamamori by the chin, turning him back around. Tamamori met his eyes with a little shock of fear that he’d been found out. 

“Tell me to stop,” Miyata said, eyes dark. His leg shifted higher and his thigh pressed hard against Tamamori’s crotch. 

“No,” Tamamori breathed, planting his feet flat on the bed and pushing against the pressure. “Please don’t.”

Miyata held his gaze for a long time before falling to the side, his head on the same pillow as Tamamori. Tamamori rolled after him, like a sunflower searching for light. He was worried Miyata was coming to his senses, that he was realizing what a dangerous line they were toeing. Instead, he leaned their foreheads together with his eyes closed and his hand returned to Tamamori’s chest. He rubbed at his nipple for a moment with the back of his fingers, letting it bump along his knuckles. Then he slid his hand down Tamamori’s back, coming to rest on the curve of his bottom. Tamamori leaned back into his hand, then pressed forward against Miyata’s hip. Miyata grabbed him solidly by the back of the thigh and hitched him up until he was completely straddling Miyata’s leg. Blood pounded between his legs at the pressure and he whined.

Miyata hushed him, kissing his nose and eyelids. He began to rock them slowly back and forth, letting Tamamori rub on his thigh. It wasn’t long before Tamamori was hard against Miyata’s hip. He swore and shook and buried his face in Miyata’s chest. Kissing be damned, he wanted to focus on the pleasure throbbing in his gut. He would have been embarrassed, had he not felt Miyata’s own erection prodding him in the stomach only a few minutes later. He wanted to get a hand on himself, but bit his lip and reminded himself that he wasn’t alone. He was finally in bed with someone, with someone who cared about him, who he didn’t have to worry about leaking nudes or running to tabloids afterwards. Even if it was some pity hump he could relax and enjoy it for what it was. He could take it as slowly as Miyata wanted to give it, and if all he wanted to do was rock together like this, he’d do it all night. 

But Miyata, bless him, had more ambitious plans. His hand played at Tamamori’s waistband before it came around to undo the drawstring at his navel and loosen his pants. From there he pushed his hand under his boxers and squeezed his ass properly. Tamamori jerked at the touch, squirming and rearranging himself so he wasn’t so awkwardly smashed against Miyata’s leg. 

“Please?” Tamamori finally asked, letting go of Miyata and catching his hand through his pants instead. “Toshiya?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You too?”

“Mmhmm.” Miyata kissed him once more before rolling away. He popped the button of his jeans and watched Tamamori squirm out of his own pants and underwear. They’d seen each other naked a million times, but never aroused and Miyata stupidly couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Don’t stare,” Tamamori complained, scooting back in once he’d tossed his shirt aside. 

“I’m going to,” Miyata warned with a teasing laugh. 

“You’re a grower, huh?” Tamamori whispered, making the first move to take Miyata in his hand. “Never would have thought.”

“Har har,” Miyata grumbled, then got his own hand on Tamamori and began to stroke him. 

Tamamori closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the top of Miyata’s forehead, mouth open around silent cries of pleasure. He wasn’t going to last long for sure. This was all so sudden and bizarre and he couldn’t think of the last time he’d even had a minute to deal with himself, always too busy and too tired to even think about masturbating. He focused on Miyata in his hand, hard and smooth and somehow satisfying to hold. He’d never imagined he’d be giving another man-- a member of Kisumai no less-- a handjob, but at least he was getting one in return and it was beyond satisfactory. 

“That’s so good, Toshi,” he murmured. Then he shuddered with pleasure when Miyata thumbed against the head. “ _ Oh _ .”

“There?” Miyata asked, tilting his head to kiss Tamamori’s chin. He kept pulling at him slowly, playing his thumb over the head and moaning appreciatively when Tamamori returned the favor. He sped up a little, feeling Tamamori begin to tremble again. Tamamori choked on his next breath and jerked hard into Miyata’s hand. Miyata raised up onto his elbow and shoved Tamamori onto his back. He kissed his neck and kept pulling at him, murmuring encouragement into his ear. Tamamori went tense before his release, clutching Miyata tight and pulling his knees up towards his chest. 

He’d never reacted like this before. With girls he’d always been nervous not to be too honest. Sex was almost bland and impassionate. He’d rather a slander article read that he was boring in the sack instead of some weird, personal nonsense. But with Miyata he didn’t have to pretend. Who was he going to tell, after all? Certainly not a publisher. 

MIyata got his other arm under Tamamori’s neck, cradling in his head and kissing his cheeks until he let out a quiet gasp and went completely still. Miyata stroked him through it until he relaxed, rubbing their noses together to soothe him out of his stupor. 

“You’re trembling,” Miyata whispered, letting him go and smoothing his hand down his hip instead. 

“I am,” Tamamori agreed stupidly, clutching Miyata tighter. He buried his face in his chest and tried to calm himself.

“You’re okay,” Miyata said, hugging him to himself. He pet down his ribs and kissed him slowly.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled against his lips. He found Miyata again, gripping him more solidly now that he wasn’t distracted.

“You don’t have to,” Miyata insisted, grabbing the back of Tamamori’s hand.

“I want to.”

“Okay.” 

Miyata kept his hand there, guiding Tamamori along the way he liked. Tamamori may have been easy to tip over, but Miyata needed it a certain way. Or so he thought. A different palm sliding up over his tip and Tamamori’s slender fingers wrapped almost delicately around him was electrifying. He came to the brink faster than he anticipated and suddenly he understood why Tamamori was shivering. It had been far too long since he was with another person.

After, Tamamori grabbed tissues from the bedside table, then crumpled them and tossed them to the floor to be dealt with later. He made to roll back to Miyata, to face him for whatever awkward conversation was about to come in their post-orgasm clarity. Instead, Miyata met him before he could roll and spooned behind him. He kissed his shoulder and shifted them both more comfortably against the pillow.

“Is this okay?” he asked, lips pressed against the back of Tamamori’s neck.

“Yes.”

Tamamori held Miyata’s arm over his belly and closed his eyes, completely limp and boneless.

“Why did we do that?” Miyata asked.

“Dunno,” Tamamori replied honestly. He shivered as his sweat cooled and dried and he mentally thanked Miyata for being such a furnace. “Felt better than with what’s-her-name.”

“That’s sad,” Miyata laughed, hugging him tighter. “She was worse than a sloppy handjob?”

“Not like that,” Tamamori disagreed. “Felt  _ better _ .”

Miyata was quiet for a while. “I thought it felt right, too.”

Tamamori shifted around until they were nose to nose. “Did we fuck up?”

“I don’t think so.” Miyata frowned and pecked his lips. “The fact that neither of us has run for the door yet is probably a good sign.”

“I guess.”

“I don’t know if you’re…  _ that way _ or not,” Miyata said after a pause. “But… if you ever want… even just this…” He trailed off and hugged Tamamori to indicate the gentle, innocent intimacy they were sharing now.

“You too,” Tamamori said. “I don’t like thinking about Toshiya being lonely.”

Miyata snorted. “Ahh, it’s nice to hear that Tama worries about me.”

“It’s Yuta,” Tamamori frowned. “Why do you always call me Tama?”

Miyata shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t want to push it, I guess.”

“Well, it’s Yuta now.  _ I’m  _ pushing it.”

“Okay, okay.” Miyata placated him with another kiss to his forehead. “Now what?”

“Dunno. You feeling better about it all?”

“I think so.” Miyata rolled onto his back, dragging Tamamori along with him. 

Tamamori rested his head on his shoulder and pondered how he never considered Miyata as a convenient alternative to dating. He was gentle and sweet and already loved him to the moon and back. They knew each other’s weaknesses and nothing was a secret anymore. Especially now. He closed his eyes and hugged him back.

“Might have a problem now, though,” Tamamori finally said. “Can’t get carried away during filming.”

Miyata laughed, his whole body shaking. “I doubt that will happen.”

“Hope not.”

“Let’s just walk onto set hand in hand, as slowly as possible.”

Tamamori burst out laughing and smacked him hard in the chest. “Don’t say our fucking lyrics, you idiot.”

“I’m gonna. I’m with you forever.”

“Gross.”

But Tamamori leaned over him and kissed him again.


End file.
